


Money Makes The World Go Round

by DoubleL27



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Queer Relationship, David Rose is a Good Person, Emotional Comfort, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Patrick Drops the Fbomb, Queer Themes, Season/Series 06, Wedding Planning, queer growing pains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29913525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleL27/pseuds/DoubleL27
Summary: His dad laughed. “Your mother and I would expect nothing less. But we wanted to make sure you’re counting the money we are putting toward the wedding as part of your budget.”Patrick found himself blinking at those words. They hadn’t mentioned the money. He thought the money had disappeared into the wedding that never materialized with Rachel.“We just need to put a few things together and we’ll send the money,” his mom chimed in quickly.“Don’t worry about it, really. We can make it on our own,” Patrick said, unable to stop himself. The words came from somewhere in the tightness hiding inside his chest. David’s fingers squeezed his arm but Patrick didn’t look away from his family.His mother’s affectionate eye roll came across loud and clear. “Now, you’re being silly. This is a parent’s prerogative. Youwilllet us help.”ORPatrick has feelings about the money his parents send to be part of the wedding budget.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 14
Kudos: 174





	Money Makes The World Go Round

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been languishing since Season 6 aired. I wanted to dive into how Patrick might have felt over his parents giving money. There is the light feelings of internalized homophobia, similarly to the feelings that cropped up in Meet the Parents. You don't just finish that work as a queer person when you come up. It sneaks up on you. It snuck up on Patrick.
> 
> A thanks to MoreHuman for betaing all my queer feels.

“I mean,” David laughed as his engagement-ring-adorned hand kept caressing Patrick’s shoulder. Just below, Patrick felt his fiancé’s other hand grip his bicep. “We’re still figuring out who around here is capable of catering and we are oscillating between a wildflower, stark white, or succulent-slash-verdant arrangements for the florals. But it’s really coming together.”

David turned from Patrick’s parents on the screen to look at him, utterly beaming. David had always been one of the most handsome men Patrick ever laid eyes on, but since they’d gotten engaged, he was radiant with a kind of golden joy that Patrick never wanted to see dimmed. All the nerves that had plagued him on the hike to propose had melted away when David had burst into happy tears. The nerves hadn’t returned since.

“Well, it sounds like you’re off to a lovely start,” his mother’s voice bubbled over the speakers.

Patrick ripped his eyes away from David's face to look at his parents on the laptop screen. Their body language, curled together in front of the camera on their home computer, mirrored his and David’s own. 

“It’s definitely going somewhere. We’re doing some venue shopping. Unfortunately,” Patrick raised his left hand across his body to cover David’s hand that kept restlessly moving. His head turned to watch David’s face as he said, “to afford David’s favorite venue we would have had to bask in the sounds of slaughter.”

“Do _not_ ,” David insisted, sharp and loud, and Patrick had to swallow his laugh. “I still have night terrors about that sound.”

“Well,” his dad said through a cough that was suspiciously like a laugh, “We did want to talk to you both about the budget. We know it’s not easy, planning a wedding.”

His mom chimed in with, “And they’re so expensive these days. Your cousin Jenny’s wedding almost made your Uncle Steve go get a second mortgage. When your father and I got married we just had the reception in the church basement.”

Wordlessly, his parents turned to look at each other and shared their own secret smile about their wedding. Patrick could see the old wedding album with his mom’s permed hair and long lace sleeves and his dad’s hair still dark before it had gone entirely white. One day, many years in the future, Patrick knew he and David would have the same kind of shared looks over their own wedding. 

Patrick smiled at the image, rubbing his thumb over David’s hand as it twitched at the mention of a church. “We have a budget and we are sticking to it,” Patrick said, pride lacing his voice.

For all of David’s pronouncements that Patrick was in charge of business things, he had been the one to spearhead the budget discussion the morning after their engagement announcement had not gone as planned. David had begun laying out his vision for the wedding as well as laying out financial information of his own and asking Patrick what he could reasonably afford with the extra expenses of an apartment and a car. Patrick wasn’t sure he had ever been more in love with David. Maybe the moment when David had his dream venue in front of him and was willing to let it go because they couldn’t afford the prices. Or a million other moments. 

His dad laughed. “Your mother and I would expect nothing less. But we wanted to make sure you’re counting the money we are putting toward the wedding as part of your budget.”

Patrick found himself blinking at those words. They hadn’t mentioned the money. He thought the money had disappeared into the wedding that never materialized with Rachel.

“We just need to put a few things together and we’ll send the money,” his mom chimed in quickly.

“Don’t worry about it, really. We can make it on our own,” Patrick said, unable to stop himself. The words came from somewhere in the tightness hiding inside his chest. David’s fingers squeezed his arm but Patrick didn’t look away from his family.

His mother’s affectionate eye roll came across loud and clear. “Now, you’re being silly. This is a parent’s prerogative. You _will_ let us help.”

“If we must,” David laughed, easy and loose. 

Patrick let the conversation continue around him, and tried not to focus on the funny feeling that something was off. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

~*~

Patrick flipped through the mail as David began puttering around the kitchen, setting them up to eat the pizza they had driven out of their way to pick up after closing the store. Most of it was junk, credit card offers and coupon packs. At the bottom of the stack was an envelope with his dad’s chunky, nearly all caps handwriting spelling out David and Patrick’s names and the address to his apartment, one of the return labels the local animal shelter sent them for their donations stuck in the corner. The envelope was one of the heavyweight ones that his parents kept in the home office, meant for sending things that weren’t for other people’s eyes. 

It was probably their contribution for the wedding. Despite all of his conversations with his parents about online banking and direct transfers, they still liked a traditional cheque. Patrick shook his head as his thumb ripped through the seam. 

“Red or white?”

“Red,” Patrick muttered, flipping open the white printer paper. 

**Sorry this took so long to get out. Excited for your wedding and glad to help, boys.**

****

****

**Love,  
Mom and Dad.**

Patrick smiled seeing the word _boys_ written out. Sometimes, Patrick forgot there was a time his parents didn’t know and love David as the love of his life. He had been so afraid to tell them, and might have procrastinated forever if it wasn’t for David’s surprise. Patrick was so glad he had told them, though, because here he was with his fiancé, getting joint mail from his parents. 

Patrick turned the thick banker’s cheque over and gasped. “Holy shit.”

David whirled around, wine bottle and empty glass in hand. “What? What?”

“I uh…” Patrick blinked, looking up from the cheque in his hands to look at David with startled eyes. “My—my parents sent the, uh.” Patrick willed his brain to find the words, shaking his head slightly. “The cheque for the wedding fund.”

David grinned, giving a shimmy of delight and still not spilling a bit of wine. Patrick would have been impressed if he wasn’t trying to make sense of the number he was looking at.

“Excellent.” David began pouring wine into the glass. “That calls for a celebration. _How many_ of the reach items _can_ we go for?”

Patrick just glanced back down at the paper in his hands, which apparently was shaking. He looked back up at David, and swallowed trying to find the words. “It’s...uh...it’s not quite what we thought it was going to be.”

David froze, his eyes falling closed and his head dropping back for a few precious seconds before flipping forward again. He nodded in rapid succession, his lips working overtime. David carefully put the wine bottle and glass down. “Okay, alright. How much _do_ I have to downgrade, because I am not certain—”

“No, no. David it’s...fuck.” Patrick couldn’t manage to form the right words to explain. Instead, he extended the signed piece of paper out in front of him and stared at David. “Here.”

David snatched the cheque from Patrick. His lips moved silently as he read the amount Patrick’s parents had written out carefully once, twice, and three times. Then David’s pupils blew entirely and he let out a trembling breath that was almost a laugh. “Oh my God. OH MY GOD! _OHMYGOD_!” A wild cackle ripped from David’s throat as the cheque began shaking in his hand.

“Yeah.” Patrick nodded absently, his hand coming up to rub at the shell of his ear. “Yeah.”

“This is—” David looked at him with wide eyes, his free hand bouncing as if he was dribbling a non-existent basketball. “Patrick, this is like...it’s _**a lot**_ of money for the wedding.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. I didn’t realize...” David said, trailing off.

“I didn’t either,” Patrick interrupted, his hand scrubbing over his hair, his neck before settling both of his hands in his pockets. “We haven’t been engaged that long and they haven’t—I told them so late, about you, about us, you know. I don’t know where they—What were they thinking?”

“Do you—Do you want to ask them?” David asked, tentatively, glancing between the cheque and Patrick. “I mean, your mom wrote out a physical cheque so I am pretty sure she, like, knows what she did. We don’t want to refuse the gift horse that has been brought into the stables.” David stopped and looked at the cheque again, his face pulling into an excited cringe. “Several gift horses, actually.”

“I should—I should at least let them know we got—got it though, right? I mean, that’s a…” Patrick was kind of glad David was holding onto the cheque. “You don’t want to lose that kind of thing.”

“No. No.” David held the cheque carefully between both thumb and forefinger. “I’m just—I’m gonna put this right here.” He settled it on the table before turning in a wide circle. “Wine. We need the wine.”

Patrick took out his phone with sweaty hands, and took a moment to wipe each one off on his jeans before swiping in and finding his parents in recents. David passed him a glass of pinot noir as he listened to the phone ring. Patrick took a big swig, trying to calm the nerves that were jumping with every ringtone. Suddenly, the connection picked up and Patrick took another sip of the wine.

“Hello, honey,” his mother said into the phone, all bright and sunny, “To what do I owe the pleasure of having you on the phone on a Wednesday evening?”

Tuesdays and Sunday evenings were their normal call times. Tuesday because the store was usually dead and Sunday evenings he and David had taken to FaceTiming with his parents. 

“Hey, Mom. I um.” Patrick swallowed another gulp of wine, and placed his now empty glass on the table before wandering off into the living area of his apartment. “I just wanted to let you and Dad know the cheque came in the mail—for the wedding,” he clarified as if there was another thing they would have sent the money for.

“Oh,” his mom answered, and he could hear the smile on her face. Her voice became more bubbly as she continued, “Oh good! I’m so glad. I hope it helps.”

Patrick turned to pace back, and David’s head turned to look at an empty spot on the wall so fast he couldn’t help but worry about the current condition of David’s neck. Patrick walked back toward the table and watched his fiancé carefully avoid looking at him while David went to get a slice of pizza out of the box.

“Uh, yeah, it uh, it more—more than helps, Mom.” Patrick stumbled over his own words, trying to find the right ones. Frankly, it more than doubled their budget. He used a hand to turn the cheque and read his mom's signature and read her note in the corner: the boys’ wedding. “It’s a lot of money.”

“Sweetheart, it’s your wedding money,” his mom said, sounding puzzled, and Patrick could clearly see the wrinkle forming between her eyes. “It’s always been set aside as such. Your dad and I started saving for that when you were eighteen.”

“I-I know but-but that was before…” Patrick’s hand floated up to tug at his ear. _Before I disappointed you. Before I ran away. Before I was gay._ Which shouldn’t matter at all, really, but somehow it did. “I mean, I called off the engagement. You didn’t _have_ to save it.”

Patrick was not entirely sure why it bothered him. Bothered isn’t the right word. But his chest felt tight and tears were burning the corner of his eyes. 

“Patrick Michael Brewer, you’ve always been the type who was going to get married. You always were a parent when you played house with your cousins.” 

“I mean, yeah.” Why would he have wanted to pretend to be a kid? Patrick had spent most of his childhood with his eye on being an adult, when he’d be old enough to make the rules, do what he wanted to do. Ironically, Patrick had been almost thirty before he actually began living for himself. 

His mother continued, unaware of his internal struggle. “You like structure and routine far too much, my sweet boy. I knew the wedding fund would be called up someday. And even if you never found someone you wanted to actually spend the rest of your life with, the money would still be yours, honey As it is, we adore David and are very happy for you both, and the money is not a problem, so when you’re given a gift the appropriate thing to say is…” 

“Thank you,” Patrick answered, just as he had a million times when following that heavy-handed prompt. He smiled despite the lingering feelings of embarrassment and shame that he had even questioned his parents writing a cheque for that much money. 

“You’re very welcome. Now, it’s a no-strings attached gift. You and David use it however you see fit, but I’m certain David has some ideas.”

A shaky laugh rolled easily off his tongue thinking about the stretch list. Although, they could pay for half the things on the stretch list and still have money left over. It was worth a conversation. He looked toward the man in question, who was downing his own wine. After years of trying to make relationships work, the ease with which love seemed to overflow in Patrick where David was concerned remained as staggering as it had from the start. 

This time he caught his fiancé’s eye. David had a small smile on his face and Patrick’s smile began to come out of hiding. “Oh, yes. There’s a list.” 

“Tell Marcy I’ll call her tomorrow,” David called loudly enough to be heard, topping off his own wine as well as Patrick’s before sliding another slice of pizza out of the box.

Without missing a beat, his mother replied, “Tell David that sounds lovely. Now, I have to go, it’s pokeno night and Susan is hosting. Looking to win a few rounds.” 

Pennies and ridiculous prizes and enough wine and booze to necessitate a ride to and from whomever was hosting, but his mom and her friends rarely missed a monthly pokeno session. “Night, Mom.” 

Patrick slid his phone back into his pocket before sitting at the table. He finally took a slice of pizza out of the box. David had already somehow eaten three pieces. “We should probably stop by the bank tomorrow before opening up the store.”

While Patrick started eating, silence stretched between them. A drumming sound caused Patrick to look up. David’s fingers were tapping out a staccato beat. 

David tilted his head, his lips tightening slightly. “Do you want to talk about it? ”David asked, his voice soft and understanding despite the tension on his face. 

Patrick felt his chest tighten again. He forced his voice into a casual tone. “About what?” 

David’s head fell to the other side, a knowing smile curving on his lips. “Uh the internal meltdown you had about the money for our wedding?”

“I didn’t...it wasn’t... “ 

“Mmmkay. No. Whenever you’re ready."

“I just…” Patrick tried to string the words together and justify his brain short circuiting. The weird feeling was still in his chest. Patrick was tempted to label the feeling guilt. Which made no sense.

“I know,” David said compassionately, his hand covering Patrick’s. 

“Well, at least one of us does,” Patrick mused bitterly, looking into his wine glass.

David’s lips pursed and his eyes closed. He nodded with a murmur. “Okay, I know you’ve come a long way, but you’re still a baby gay.” 

“David.” 

“I’m just saying that,” David continued, swallowing and rubbing his fingers over the back of Patrick’s hand in comfortable tracks. “There are a lot of things people have to work through like, internally, even if they are very happy with themselves.”

“I am—”

David squeezed Patrick’s hand, and his voice was still soft and soothing. “I know, but your fears are real, even if they don’t come true.” 

Patrick turned this over in his head. Even the best depictions of two men getting married on TV were fraught at best. There was always someone’s family who didn’t accept what was happening, money that wasn’t going to be given, stories of people whose parents refused to speak to them. Even knowing who his parents were, how they were with him, there was that skittering fear that it could all change. 

Patrick slumped. “Oh.” 

“You want to talk about it?” 

“I don’t think I realized that it was...that I just associate…” Patrick stumbled, while David slid out of his chair and came around the table. 

“Mmm,” David murmured soothingly, coming to sit in Patrick’s lap and cupping his face softly. Patrick leaned into his hand. 

In some ways, his life was entirely different than it had been two years ago. Patrick was in love with the best person he’s ever known. He was actually happy. He was living his life as a gay man, and no one thought it was weird. In others, Patrick was on the path he had always envisioned. He was getting married. He was managing a business with the person he loved.

David’s voice shifted, taking on a silken quality. “You know, this whole wedding thing is a lot, like _a lot_. I, for one, have given up on my destination wedding in Bali. I have even settled on the motel’s lawn as a passible venue,” he teased. 

“So generous,” Patrick returned, turning his face to press a kiss to David’s palm. 

“So _you_ should be a kind and generous son and deal with your feelings within the parameters of our relationship so we can cash this cheque.”

Patrick held back a laugh. “You’ve already spent it, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Yup. Yes.” David nodded, his smile sliding sideways and fond.

The humor and warmth drained away, leaving Patrick feeling cold. David’s brow furrowed, entirely in tune with the shift in Patrick’s mood. Patrick found himself burrowing further into David’s hand with a sigh. “I guess I’m just still catching up with, with…everything. It’s hard to believe I haven’t even been out to my parents for a full year.”

Harder, to believe Patrick had only known David for a little over two years. The guilt and the fear around his identity hadn’t cropped up since he had told his parents the truth on his birthday. Guilt and fear had been tied to his last attempt to get married. Patrick hated even more that it had touched on what could only be called a happy period in his life.

David leaned in and kissed him. Patrick let himself fall into the warmth and comfort that was David. When David pulled away, his face had that soft, crooked smile. “I know. You’re doing great, honey.” 

“Thanks, David. I’m learning.”

Patrick figured he might be learning for the rest of his life. They would start by cashing the cheque. Then, they would work on crafting a wedding that would be worthy of David.

The seriousness melted away and David shifted into a delighted shimmy. “I think there will even be a little money leftover for us to start thinking of a place to live where my knits will be comfortable.”

“Sure, David,” Patrick offered, his lips curving into a smile.

There was a separate fund Patrick had been working on for just such an occasion. He wouldn’t mention it to David yet. The wedding was enough for David to spiral about for now. The cheque from his parents meant that Patrick didn’t have to grapple with indulging David’s plans for a beautiful wedding and how long before he could give David the kind of space his wardrobe deserved. 

“Okay,” David answered aloud, continuing a conversation in his head Patrick wasn’t privy to. “I think we can afford Fabian.”

_“Who?”_ Patrick asked, blinking. 

But David was off his lap and heading for the wedding binder on Patrick’s desk. “He’s perfect." 


End file.
